The Inception Cake
by aliceann
Summary: Sophie Coventry surprises Neal with dessert. She's baked an Inception cake, a cake within a cake within a cake. She has a proposition for him; as they eat through the cake layers they must reveal something to each other no one else knows about them. She's added a secret family ingredient to bolster the process. Clothes will be shed and truths revealed. T for sexual situations.
1. Chapter 1

**THE INCEPTION CAKE**

_**All roads lead to cake and cake will manipulate people to do what they want. Sophie Coventry pays a surprise visit to Neal armed with dessert and an intriguing proposition**__._

Sophie surprises Neal with dessert. She's baked an inception cake, a cake within a cake within a cake. She has a proposition for him; as they eat through the cake layers each person must reveal something to each other no one else knows about them. To make the experience even more intriguing and mysterious, Sophie has added secret ingredients derived from a closely held family recipe into the layers. Clothes will be shed and truths revealed.

The game, each layer they consume leads to an increasing loss of inhibition and matching desire to tell the truth. In other words, each layer is laced with an elixir of abandon and truth serum. As you eat your way farther in, boundaries shift and slide. Can you tell what's real and does it matter? When you get to the center, you can decide to take the last bite or not. If you do, you won't remember what went on previously.

**Chapter 1**

"Sophie," he smiled.

"Hello, Neal. June let me up. I guess I looked harmless enough. I hope it's okay."

"Of course, come in."

"I have something for you. It's a bit of a surprise."

"I love surprises," his smile widened.

"You were kind to make me dinner. I've wanted to reciprocate ever since. So I brought dessert." She lightly set the box she carried on his table. It was exquisitely wrapped. He recognized handmade papers from the bark of the Daphne bush which grows high in the Himalayas. Spun silk bejeweled ribbons crisscrossed in a dizzying display of color. If the contents of his mystery package rivaled the exterior, he knew he was in for quite the treat.

"May I?" he unwrapped the gift. "Wow!"

"I hope you have a sweet tooth." Her eyes were crystalline blue and wide in anticipation.

"Cake," he all but purred.

There was an immediate jolt to his senses, as this intense chocolate perfumed scent filled the air.

"I thought I just might have a shot with the owner of _The Greatest Cakes_. But I have to warn you, this is no ordinary cake. It requires a certain set of skills to maximize full enjoyment."

_Maximize full enjoyment,_ his head all but reeled with the possibilities that those three words held. Sophie was as ravishing as her cake. Exquisite on the surface while holding the promise of something even more extraordinary inside.

"This recipe was given to me by mother and her mother passed it down to her just as her mother before her had. Let's just say it's been in the family for quite a long time. There's even some speculation our descendants and the recipe can be traced all the way back to Salem."

"Why am I not surprised by that," he lifted the perfectly tiny cake from the box.

"Creating a cake is a form of art, but you already know that. Like with all great art, it invokes feeling, stirs a passion. The tastes come to life, same as a canvas. Unfortunately, my ancestors lived in a time when women were not as free to explore the boundaries of their pleasure. Baking however was safe and sanctioned."

It was hard to take his eyes away from her. He felt a giddy rush not unlike what he felt the first time he encountered her and she made off with his fedora. What he felt now was definitely neither safe nor sanctioned.

"You might say this recipe was born from need. Sensual pursuits for women then could be dangerous and required the utmost discretion from both parties. Kiss and tell could actually lead to death."

"My lips are sealed," he sat next to her.

"Well, we can't have that. Not just yet, anyway." She pressed a finger of raspberry chocolate ganache into his mouth. The flavors mingled and morphed on his tongue in the most extraordinary explosion of flavors.

"Should I go on?" she teased.

"Seriously? Spoon or forks?"

"Neither. I'm a hand's on kind of girl."

"And I was kind of hoping you'd say that."

"So, as I was saying, she fed him another morsel of frosting. A secret sisterhood devoted to the pursuit of sensual pleasure was born. They experimented with local herbs and elements considered aphrodisiacs, to heighten arousal. These elixirs were incorporated into their confections. When the right balance was struck, they enlisted a select group of men into their circle."

"I can only imagine the vetting process that must have been. Wine?"

"Yes, thank you."

He poured two glasses of Merlot as Sophie watched him like a cat with a prized mouse in her sights.

"The men were sworn to secrecy, but soon they wanted more than sweets and sex. Some could not hold to the secret, others wanted to possess them solely. They wanted not only a claim on their freedom but their lives."

"They would be at their mercy," Neal sighed. He knew something of indentured servitude and a freedom denied.

"Exactly. Necessity being the mother of invention … my great, great, great gran's charm of another kind came into being. It was sheer brilliance, added to food it had the ability to produce a sort of dissociative amnesia. It prevented current experiences from being transferred to permanent memory."

"Genius, he grinned always appreciative of a well-crafted con. So once the men took it, they forgot the entire event."

"Yes and they were incapable of any deception while under the influence. An unanticipated bonus was subconsciously they retained a positive connection to the women, but wouldn't be able to put their finger on why."

"I'm sure the ladies used that to great advantage."

"Over the years the recipe was refined into what you see before you. There are three layers to this cake. Each laced with an element that expands sensual awareness and lessens inhibition. Each layer is more potent than the previous one."

He poured her another glass of wine careful to keep his hands steady against the mounting excitement and anticipation flooding him.

"So it's the ultimate roofie, a potent blend of mind/body altering truth serum, aphrodisiac and amnesia," he offered.

"Unlike the original men you do have an option. You can stop when you choose, first layer, second layer, third. If you stop before the center you remember everything."

"And if I chose not to, and have the center layer?"

"If you eat to the center, you will forget what transpired from the beginning taste. Do you sacrifice truth?"

"And this applies to you as well as me."

"Yes."

"So if I have this right. Each layer will progressively expand and heighten our sensual awareness and deepen sexual pleasure with the center being this DEFCON 1 of arousal."

"Precisely. Are you in or out?"

"I'll go first."


	2. Chapter 2

**THE INCEPTION CAKE**

**Chapter 2**

The densely chocolate layer all but melted in his mouth. He knew the second he took the first bite there was no going back. He could see everything clearly, feel everything more acutely, the cloud in his brain lifting as his body caught up. Sophie's hand settled on the back of his neck pulling him towards her. She was way ahead, undoing the buttons of his shirt as she slipped it off.

"I haven't told you anything yet," he muttered.

"You will. You're thinking too much," she slowly stroked her fingers across his jawline over his throat and down the length of his exposed chest. Her touch was electric; every nerve in his skin was on fire. The sheer pleasure scattered every thought in his head. His reaction was immediate and emphatic. He lifted her to him…. leaning in, his lips moving against her ear "I didn't steal the Raphael, but I did win it fair and square. I went to prison to impress a girl."

"Romance is so over rated," she sighed. Then like a big cat she pounced, wrapping her long legs around him. The unexpected move toppled them to the ground. All her weight on him, she pinned him to the floor straddling his hips, a hand placed squarely on his breast bone. His senses reeled as the chocolate worked its devilish magic.

"You're so damned pretty," she said staring down into those brilliantly blue eyes. She moved closer. He could feel the tips of her teeth along the soft flesh of his neck, the heat of her skin.

"I won't bite," she whispered.

"All my vaccinations are up to date," he grinned.

He kissed her, pulling her bottom lip softly between his. He took his time as she moaned softly, waiting for the kiss to finish, but not wanting to pull away from that beautiful mouth.

"I was hit by a drunk driver when I was 15. I was in a coma for six months. Then one day I just woke up."

"Did you remember anything?" his voice filled with care.

"I told my family I saw a white light with beautiful fields and heard people calling my name. I lied. I am afraid, this is all there is."

"Then we had better make the most of it." He slipped his hands under her dress and slowly eased the hem up over her ass, up her back, belly and off. She wasn't wearing a bra. With nothing to distract him his hands closed over her breasts as he pulled her gently towards him. The warmth of his mouth on her, moving over her body made her stomach contract in sweet anticipation.

He raised his knees and in one fluid motion turned, positioning himself over her. She arched up pressing her body against him. Kissing practically every part of his body until her mouth was fully on his, tongues chasing each other; she reveled in the storm she was bringing. His eyes shimmered with desire and intent in the dimming light. As he took her in, time seemed to wrap itself around them; pleasure spreading out like an event horizon. It was staggering. He pushed against her in a heated mix of excitement and anticipation.

"Wait," she groaned.

"What? his heartbeat stuttered. What's wrong?" he was panting.

"Breathe."

She looked over his shoulder drawing his attention to the cake sitting on the table. He glanced to his right, viewing the partially consumed confection.

"Now? You want to eat cake. Right now. You can't be serious."

"You feel it. I know you do. This can be so much more. Trust me."

_This_ was pushing the boundaries of his considerable self-control. But he knew she was right, despite the pool of blood collecting in his groin. He laughed, surrendering for the moment; his big head taking charge from the little one.

She was stunning, blond hair falling around her bare shoulders like his private Botticelli angel. She was wearing only her panties and four-inch cobalt blue high heels. They were driving him crazy as she sat in his lap swinging her feet. Every one of his senses was in over drive; this was so outside anything he had ever felt before.

"You were right," he said polishing off the last of the middle layer.

"Hmm?" she absent mindedly licked the toasted coconut filling off his fingers.

"I've never experienced anything like this," he sighed as her tongue traced along his arm over his chest and up his neck, the potent flavors combined with the sweet sweet taste of his skin. She swept her thumb over the softness of his lips, gently parting them.

"Told you," she hummed. Her face inches from his.

"I knew my husband's partner planned to kill him and I didn't say anything."

"Why?"

"I wanted him dead," she stood smiled down at him and stepped out of her panties.

He knew he should be repulsed by her admission, but he wasn't. All of the things he normally would have felt were strangely absent. All he felt was this burning, all-consuming want.

"My husband thought sex was cheap and his money could buy anything he wanted. That included me. I hated his hands on me."

He came up behind her, his mouth on her neck his hand sliding over her belly pulling her tight against him. She heard the grate of his zipper. His voice was low and resonant.

"Bend over a little. There. God! …. a groan rumbled through his chest and escaped his lips. Don't move."

"I wouldn't move for all the tea in China," her breathing sped up in anticipation.

He pushed in deeper, and she pushed back. He held her against him with his right hand, his other hand pressed against the table for better leverage. His feet were between hers pushing them farther apart. Her thighs trembled as she shuddered. She would have collapsed forward if not for his tight grip on her, their bodies rising and falling in sync now. On the verge of coming, he held back again and again, just when they thought they couldn't go further they went under again. Time lost all relevance and he showed no signs of slowing; she tried to twist around.

"What?" he murmured.

"Your turn."

He eased out of her and lifted her onto the table next to the remaining cake. She could feel the heat from his eyes. He hadn't cooled down at all. His dark hair setting off that extraordinary face. His pupils impossibly dilated, blue was utterly insufficient to describe the remaining color she saw in them.

"A co- worker showed up at my door one night. She was drunk and obviously wanting more than to go over cold cases."

"Women just can't resist you," she slid her hands down his belly.

"She's gay," he moaned softly.

"That's interesting."

"She wasn't interested in me."

Sophie pulled him forward, helping him step out of the jeans that pooled around his feet.

"I thought she wanted to play grab ass with you. And if I might add, what a grade A ass it is," she cupped his bare ass in her hands.

"She wanted to break up with someone. She thought if she cheated on her, it would convince her she'd made the right decision."

"But she wasn't convinced, because she got drunk."

"Precisely. Maybe she thought it wouldn't count in the light of day when she was sober."

"And because her cheat was a man," her mouth turned up in mild amusement.

"Because it was _me_. I don't really count in their world, just a con, part-time citizen, a throw away."

"You sound hurt," she stroked his back. You said she was gay. What did you expect, a conversion? What did you want?"

"What I always want. The unimaginable. The impossible. I wanted her to want me; like I wanted her at that moment. Why do we have to know what we want? He pressed closer against her nakedness, half dragging, half carrying her to the edge of the table while easing off those heels.

"I wanted to hear how her sighs sounded, what her breath felt like against my neck. The best kisses are the ones that are stolen." he made a soft trail of them along her shoulder.

"And did you?"

"She passed out. I put her in a cab and sent her home. But the next day I pretended otherwise and she was too drunk to remember. She broke up with her girlfriend."

A twinge of regret started to fray the seam of pleasure enveloping him. He wanted to stay in this world where logic was disabled, fear and shame silenced; suspended between everything he ever did and everything he ever needed. The only demand...give oneself over to pleasure. He looked at what was left of the tiny cake.

"You in?" he asked her.

"I was never out."

The last layer was beyond comprehension. _Was there something more than can be managed by the senses_? he thought. He could feel the vital heat of her body filling him, life touching his own. She was radiant, burning with such intensity he reflexively pulled back.

"No," she said wrapping her arms around him, digging her fingers into the powerful muscles of his shoulders, no distance between them now. She knew he was uniquely capable of withstanding the power generating between them.

Her touch immediately reassured him. It was intoxicating. He closed his eyes and for a moment thought he was dreaming. She was kissing him with a hunger that stole his breath. His kisses held the same burn, the same hunger. He lifted her off him, carried her to his bed, breaking the kiss long enough to take her down across it.

She tilted her head back and brought her hips forward pulling him all the way inside her; taking him deeper, seeking everything he could give her, her movements magnifying his .…linked together. Time closed in on him again, winding round and round like the hands of a clock, endless loops of pleasure and unrealized possibilities.

"Now," she gasped. The urgency of her voice broke across him like water bursting through a damn. He shuddered as he gave in, forehead to forehead staring into her eyes as the sweetest pain crossed her face.

The hours that followed were a mix of lust and exhaustion. Lying naked amidst the ruin of sheets and pillows he turned on his side so he was facing her. He moved a strand of golden hair from her face to behind her ear. He let his hand linger. The moonlight streaming in from the terrace gave her a otherworldly glow.

"I was prepared to leave a woman who meant everything to me for a man who terrifies me."

"You never cease to surprise me, she kissed the palm of his hand. What would make a man like you trade away love?"

"She represented freedom, everything I always imagined I wanted. I could escape with her, become someone else."

"And him?"

"Responsibility. Fidelity I think. I can't believe I said that."

She pulled him closer cradling his head against her shoulder, her hand on his chest.

"I will never love you. I don't have the aptitude for it. None of my ancestors did, maybe it's a debt we pay for the charm, for our freedom."

"What did we just experience?"

"Sex at its most powerful, profound and freeing; but you want the impossible, the unimaginable. You want love Neal Caffrey. You want to be able to step into the same place in the river over and over, but you can't have both. Freedom or responsibility, it's a choice.

"I know." He watched her slide out of his bed and walk across the room more beautiful than when she entered, if that was even humanly possible.

"So which is it? I won't tell," she held out the last remaining morsel.

The end.


End file.
